


Have the Money

by Jaxon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cokeworth, Explicit Language, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 10:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaxon/pseuds/Jaxon
Summary: He's only doing Lily a favour, but then teenage Severus sees Petunia.  Really sees Petunia.





	Have the Money

**Author's Note:**

> Response to an anon Tumblr request: Snape/Petunia. PLEASE.

“I dunno know why yer coverin’ for ‘er.”

“She’s my sister.”

“Some sister.”  He paused.  “Can’t yer at least change the record?”

“She always plays the New Seekers.”

“The same LP?  Every night?  Over and over?”

Lily nodded.

“Fuck’s sake,” Severus muttered, and pulled his wand out of his waistband.

“Sev!  Not outside of school!”

“No-one’s really watchin’,” he said, amplifying Lily’s turntable with a swift movement, drowning the music coming from Petunia’s room.  “And I’m not listenin’ to that crap all night.”

“But the Ministry..?”

He shrugged and put his hands behind his head, leaning back on Lily’s bed.  “They just say that to stop Muggleborns from doing stuff in front of the neighbours.  Yer reckon the Black family don’t use magic all summer?”

“But they have magical adults in their household…I thought you just got away with it because they assumed it was your mum doing magic.”

He flashed her a grin. “That too.”

“Sev!  Nobody of age can do magic here!”

“Shhh,” he admonished, pointing at the record player.  “I’m listening to Tina.”

“If you get a letter, you’re on your own.”

“Big wheel keep on turnin’,” he sang, a broad grin plastered across his face as he ducked the pillow his best friend threw at him.

* * *

“What are you still doing here?” she hissed as he emerged from the evergreen bushes at the bottom of the garden.

“D’yer wanna hand up, or not?”  His eyes narrowed.  “’kin’ ell, yer look smashed.”

“Do not.”

“Yer wanna see yersel’,” he smirked.  “Yer fancy lipstick’s smeared all over.”

She raised a hand to her face and peered at her reflection in the dark kitchen window.  “It’s not!”

“Made yer look,” he laughed. “Yer thought it was though.  Who’ve yer been gettin’ off wi’ to do that?”

“Get lost.”

“Or what?  Yer’ll tell Mummy and Daddy?”  He looked her up and down.  “I’ll wait whilst yer call ‘em.”

Petunia bristled.  “Where’s Lily?”

“Sleep.”

She groaned.  “Fat lot of good she is.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Yer mam and da told her to go sleep, and she was coverin’ for yer.  Sent me home and told them she was sleepin’ wi’ yer in yer room.”

“But-”

“-she’s only gone sleep ‘coz I said I’d keep watch for yer.  Wish I ain’t bothered now.  Fuckin’ freezin’ out ‘ere, and yer just an ungrateful bitch.”

She eyed him sceptically. “And what good are you?  Lily was supposed to be letting me in.”

“I can get in,” he said, and swung himself up on the drainpipe.  He moved like a cat, and slipped in through her open window.  He turned back around and reversed the action. “S’easy.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yer can,” he said.  “I’ll boost yer.”

“I can’t.”

He put his arms around her waist, and picked her up.  “Hold there,” he said, “on the bracket.”  He nodded, pleased, when she followed his instruction.  “And yer other hand there.”  

“Now what?”

“I’ll push yer,” he said, “and yer gonna reach that next bracket.  Grab that, and put this foot,” he tapped her leg, “on the sill.  Like I did.”

“…I’m…”

“What?” he said, breathing in deeply.  “C’mon, I can’t stand here all night.  Yer hardly light, are yer?”

“You’re a bastard,” she snapped, pushing her foot against his shoulder as she pushed upwards.

“Got yer up though, din’t I?” he laughed, as she reached the window.  

“Now what?”

“Swing yersel’ through.”

“…I can’t.”

“What d’yer mean, yer can’t?”

“I’m scared.”

He stood for a minute, and watched as the older girl didn’t move.  He saw a tremble in her leg, and he spat on the ground.  “Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, and in a swift movement, he followed up her the drainpipe.  He grabbed hold of her bare leg and pushed her up to the window.  “Go on, grab it then!”

Petunia grabbed the ledge and pulled herself through.  He jumped back off the pipe before it broke with their combined weight and watched with a leer he hadn’t known he was capable of as her long legs disappeared into the darkness.  Quickly, he shook his head, and grabbed a cigarette from the packet in his jacket.

“Yer righ’?” he called softly, as he lit the tip with his wand and breathed the smoke in deeply.

Her face appeared at the window, and looking softer than he ever remembered, she nodded.  If he squinted, he thought he could see a faint smile.

“Good.  I’ll be off.”

“Snape,” she hissed as he was half way over the garden fence.

“Wha’?”

“…thanks.”

“Yer righ’,” he said, and raising his hand in a mock salute, he disappeared into the back alley.

* * *

“Go away,” she said, holding the bathroom door shut with her foot.

“I only wanna speak t’yer,” he said, his voice low.  “Lil’s downstairs gettin’ us a cuppa.”

Petunia pulled the bathroom door open in a sharp movement.  Her hair was piled beneath a wet towel, and she had painstakingly decorated one eye with expensive make up.

“Fuck me.”

“Did you get me to open this door just to swear at me?”

He shook his head, and looked guiltily towards the stairs.  “Nah, course not.  Where yer goin’?”

“Work’s Christmas party.”

He lowered his voice. “D’yer need a hand gettin’ in tonigh’?”

Petunia sniffed.  “It all depends on what Lily’s doing, and whether she wants to sneak down and let me in.”

“…I could meet yer.”

She gave him a scathing look.  “You? Dressed like that?”

“Not out, yer prat,” he said, ignoring her slight at his old jeans and worn jumper.  “But like, how’d yer get home t’other week?”

She didn’t answer, focusing on applying make up to her other eye.

He gripped her elbow tightly.  “Yer walked, din’t yer?  It’s not safe, girl by hersel’.  Not round ‘ere.”

“Oh says you,” she snorted. “15 years old and 8 stone wet.”

“Aye, I might be skinny but 15 years old and 6 foot 1, I’ll have yer know.  I’ll meet yer in town,” he said, walking backwards to Lily’s bedroom. “Half midnight, by the lights outside the Coach and Horses.”  He paused at Lily’s bedroom door.  “Oh, and Tuney?”

“What?”

“Yer look a million quid.”

* * *

Petunia left the corner shop and tried to ignore Severus who followed her down the street.  “There’s no point.  She hates you.”

“I know.”

“Really hates you.”

“I know, all right?” His voice was stiff, and his usual Cokeworth stained accent had gone.  “I haven’t come to see her.  I’ve come to see you.”

“What happened?”

“None of your business,” he said.  “…I want to walk you home tonight.”

“You don’t need to.  I manage when you’re at school.”

“You don’t.”  He eyed her levelly.  “You just don’t need to sneak out anymore, not now you’re eighteen.”

“Your point being?”

“The point being,” he hissed, his voice low, “that normally you get Daddy to pick you up, don’t you? By the Star.”

Despite herself, her jaw dropped.  “How do you know that?”

“I watched.”

“You were at school!”

“I come and go as I please!  I’m a wizard, you daft bitch!”  He heard his slur, and tore at his face angrily, his voice thickening.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“You’ve been watching me? All this time?”

“That lad with the stupid haircut.  He well fancies yer.”

“Martin?”

Snape shrugged.  “Tried to cop a feel an’ all, didn’t he?  Before Daddy turned up?”

“…yes.”  

“Put his hand up yer top, din’t he?” he pressed.

She eyed him suspiciously, her face flushing.  “He was somewhat uncouth, and then he suddenly remembered he had to get home.” She paused.  “…that was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“I’ll walk yer home tonight,” he said, simply.

She didn’t argue.

* * *

She couldn’t explain how she’d fallen for him.  He was from the wrong side of town, over the river.  His clothes were cheap, and his cologne cheaper.  He smelled of manual labour, and carbolic soap, and baked beans, all masked by a thick layer of Brut.

His hands were slim, and his fingers slender, but there were cuts all along them, remnants of the day’s work.  He danced like a demon, pulsing and thrusting, and kissing her hungrily.  He went to the bar, and she smiled as he walked away.

“What are you playing at?” Severus hissed, pulling her to him and then pushing her against the wall. “I thought you had aspirations!  I thought you wanted to be someone!”

“This is none of your business.”

He gripped her upper arms painfully.  “It is when you’re messing about with the likes of Gregson,” he hissed.  “He’s a brute, Tuney.”

“And what do you care?”

“I went school with him.  Muggle school.  I know what he’s like.”

“That was years ago.”

“And if I thought you’d lower yourself to a bit of rough,” he snarled, “I’d have done this years ago.” He pressed his mouth over hers, warm and hot.  He paused, giving her opportunity to pull away, and to his dismay, she did.

“Why are you following me?” She looked into his dark eyes.  “What does it matter to you whether I shack up with a petty thief from your road, or a businessman from the other side of the city?”

He rested his forehead heavily against her own.  “Because if you’re going to shack up with a criminal, it might as well be me.”  He swallowed hard, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing before her.  He ran his hand down her cheek.  “Find some businessman.  Have the house, have the money, have the big holidays, and the posh car, and the fancy television…”

She stopped him by kissing him back, and she wrapped her hands in his long hair.  “What if I choose the criminal?” she whispered, her breath hot in his ear.

“Then you’re a bigger fool than I take you for,” he whispered, and with a kiss to her forehead, he was gone.

* * *

She didn’t ring her father. She walked home alone.  Not with Gregson.  Not with Snape.

He watched, from a distance, and he saw the car tooting its horn.  He jogged on the opposite side of the road, melting into the shadow of a tree. He saw the car park up, and the engine cut out.  He watched as the large man stepped out and passed her a business card from his wallet. He extended an arm, and Snape watched as she took it, nestling her smaller hand in the meaty folds.  He followed as the man walked her home.  Snape watched, his fists balled, as they exchanged a chaste kiss and as the man retraced his steps back to the car.

Petunia stood on the doorstep.  “Thank you,” she breathed.


End file.
